Metal Gear Babel: Shades of Our Past
by rothwyn
Summary: Nine years after his first mission to Outer Heaven, Snake and his allies must go up against the CIA and thwart their plans of world domination, but disover something even more threatening in the process. Rated PG-13 for violence and language.
1. Preface

Metal Gear Babel: Shades of Our Past  
  
This is a sequel, more or less, to Metal Gear Solid. It's my first ever Metal Gear fic, so cut me some slack in those scathing reviews you fans are already planning. I urge anyone who reads this, and maybe a few who don't, to post reviews, commentary, criticism, and other forms of devout worship that I can use to shamelessly boost my self-esteem. No flaming please, as that would make me angry, and you wouldn't like me when I'm angry (insert ominous music here).  
  
Author's Note  
  
Usually I say at the beginnings of these author's ramblings that it's mostly a bunch of blather that isn't all that important to the story. However, this is a very definite must to read if you have not played a certain game, which I will detail below. You can skip this of course, but you might get confused when the story starts. You have been warned. This is a sequel to the game Metal Gear Solid. However, there are a few things you need to know, one of which you may find hard to accept. Namely that a certain small-release, low budget game called Metal Gear Solid: Tactical Espionage Action for the Sony Playstation NEVER HAPPENED. Likewise, neither did its modest sequel, Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty. To explain, roughly two years after MGS was released on the PSX, Hideo Kojima and his buds at Konami went on something of a nostalgia trip, the results of which was the extraordinarily engaging and genuinely addictive Metal Gear Solid for the Game Boy Color, also known as Metal Gear: Ghost Babel. It was sort of an alternate universe from the MGS many know and love, beginning seven years after Outer Heaven with a completely new story, cast, etc. For a run-down on the story and twists of the game, check out the "What has gone before" section immediately following the Author's Note. If not, skip to the Prologue.  
In short, in the story you are (hopefully) about to read, there is no Meryl, no Revolver Ocelot, no Vamp, and best of all, no Patriots. The jury's still out on Raiden and Otacon. However, even if they do appear, I'll be taking a few creative liberties with their characters.  
  
Now, for the two or three of you reading this who have played the GBC game, onto other, newer stuff. Solid Snake has had nothing to do with Foxhound, the CIA, or any other branch of the government for the past three years. After destroying Outer Heaven's second Metal Gear and preventing a global nuclear holocaust (again), he and Chris Jenner have disappeared, taking the horrible truth about Foxhound, Black Chamber, and Project Babel with them. Now, with the help of a few megs of data, Snake has vowed to expose the shadow governments, and their leaders, those who manipulated the CIA and Foxhound, for the betrayal and assassination of Black Chamber and the murder of James Harks.  
  
Anyway, that's more or less where the story picks up. As usual, I own no part or parcel of the Metal Gear or Metal Gear Solid franchise; they are the property of Hideo Kajima and Konami. And no one, not no one, owns Solid Snake. This is a work of complete fiction. Any relation to persons or events, living or dead, past or present, is a pure coincidence owing to the sheer number of monkeys who are typing for me.  
  
*What Has Gone Before*  
  
Back in 2000, Konami released Metal Gear Solid in the US for the Game Boy Color, the same game that was known in Japan as Metal Gear: Ghost Babel. In this game, Snake was pulled out of retirement seven years after Outer Heaven, and sent to Galuade, a country in revolt, to investigate the theft of a new Metal Gear. He encountered the members of Black Chamber, the terrorist group behind the theft, and this game's answer to Foxhound from the original MGS. Turned out that Galuade is Outer Heaven, just with a new government, and Snake had to take it down. On the mission, he met Chris Jenner, a member of Delta Force, whose unit was massacred, and James Harks, a scientist, and lead developer of the new Metal Gear. Jimmy was killed to keep him silent and Chris and Snake worked together to take out the installation, and the mech. After a climactic battle with Metal Gear, General Augustine Eugabon, leader of the Galuade Liberation Front (GLF), decided to reveal a few things. This is what happened at the end of Metal Gear Solid. This is where Snake learned the truth about the renegade group Black Chamber, the secrets behind Foxhound, and a revelation about the first operation in Outer Heaven. Snake discovered that Foxhound was not exactly telling him the truth. Left out the fact that the Black Chamber was once a Foxhound unit who were mercilessly cut down by the American Secret Service upon returning to America from a covert CIA mission. The reason: the US Government had to make sure their dirty secret would stay a secret, so everybody involved was ordered to be eliminated immediately.  
Snake also shockingly discovered from the General of the GLF that Metal Gear, Outer Heaven, Foxhound, in fact the whole operation -- including his own legendary success -- had been staged by the CIA. At the end of the Cold War, the Pentagon launched The New World Order. That order is a global domination master plan that declares the USA the supreme World ruler. All other trading blocks, such as Europe, Africa, Russia, Asia, etc., are to be destabilized by war and high profile terrorist insurgency. This plan was to be called Operation Babel.  
Operation Babel was set into motion by the CIA, who covertly continued the development of Metal Gear after Snake had destroyed it. Snake discovered that the whole saga of Metal Gear has been set up to further US interests in achieving the New World Order. Metal Gear had been covertly given to the GLF by the CIA to create chaos in Africa and hold the world for ransom. Snake's heroic mission was purely to lend credible cover for the government. The USA played innocent, claiming of no prior knowledge to what was going on. Official statements showed that African terrorists were holding the Free World to ransom. Snake also found out, to top it all off, that CIA main man McBride was the secret 5th member of Black Chamber.  
After learning this, Snake had to take out Viper, leader of Black Chamber, before Metal Gear reached the surface. If Metal Gear reached the surface it would have given commands to launch nuclear missiles at the USA from high orbiting weapons platforms in space... Or so he was led to believe. One thing is for sure; Snake was just a pawn in a very high-risk game of global chess being conducted by the American intelligence community.  
  
And it was all just beginning...  
  
*Courtesy of ign.com* 


	2. Prologue: Shadow Man

Prologue: Shadow Man  
  
It was an unseasonably cold night on a certain cold grey city by a cold grey lake, the eleventh hour being nothing more than a distant memory as violent thunderheads forced their way across the looming shadow above the skyscrapers. Deep in the festering sore of vice and violence that was Chicago in the early 21st century, a lone dark figure stood, back to the mouth of an alley, talking to no one in particular.  
This particular no one, or at least his or her channel for receiving the conversation, was embedded in the figure's ear, a microscopic piece of machinery, enigmatically called a Codec. The voice was extremely faint, audible only to the intended recipient. "I thought I told you that it was imprudent to call me here," said the distinctly male voice, a deep baritone filled with command. "How did you get this frequency?"  
If no one in particular's authority registered to the figure, it didn't show it. "Magic. And there is nothing wrong with your memory, or mine for that matter." The figure's voice was male also, but different; slightly deeper, and ragged, spoken as from a pair of lungs whose alveoli were composed of jagged granite. "I have reasons for everything I do, which, I would think, might have been made clear to you by now. He's on to you, and quite frankly, unless you take care of your end, he could cause a significant amount of trouble."  
"Regardless of past accomplishments, he is only one man. My people can deal with him."  
"My good man," said the gravelly stranger, "the greatest soldiers and mercenaries in the world have not been able to deal with him." His face was impossible to see in the dim light, but the voice gave away more than enough about his mood. "Now, may I suggest that you vacate your premises. If nothing else than to humor my whimsical mood, lest it change into something less pleasant."  
The voice on the other end of the Codec grew as cold as the most frosty of winter winds. "Is that a threat? I must inform you, I do not take kindly to anyone, no matter how valuable, who threatens me."  
The face was still shadowed, but one could get the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that the figure was smiling. "Calm yourself, my comrade in arms," the shadowed one said with a small laugh at some private joke. "And remember who made this mutual gain possible. He may be only one man, but he has proven harder to kill than the nastiest cockroaches on the lower east side, and I want nothing loose that can jeopardize the arrangement. Deal with him however you like, but make sure there is nothing there to find. He is intolerably good at poking his nose into other peoples' business."  
There was a slight snort from the other end. "Very well, if it will make you feel better. But I will deal with him. Will the transfer occur at the regular place?"  
"No. I'll get you the address later."  
"Before you go," no one in particular said as the figure's finger neared a small switch near his temple, "do I get to find out your name? Voice recognition is all well and good, but I like a better definition of to whom I am speaking."  
"My name is of no concern. However, as I am in a mood to humor your whimsical mood, you may call me Black Knight. And by the by, I would expect him in a matter of hours, so I suggest you move quickly." The finger moved before the voice on the other end could respond, and the connection was severed.  
A nearby streetlight sparked in a failed attempt to light itself, briefly reflecting off a small rectangular object covering Knight's left eye, then sputtered out, returning his world to shadows. A single black shape among many, he moved with a warrior's grace as he turned and strode down the alley, his trench coat flaring out behind him and he dug in his pockets and pulled out a rectangular box. From it he extracted a small, long cylinder, and with a flick of two fingers, a light flared from a match, casting a bright orange glow onto his face.  
Knight looked sharp, literally, with angular cheekbones, straight nose, and thin, curving lips. Two jagged scars formed a grisly cross over the left eye, the cross piece barely a centimeter below the lid. A strand or two of silver hair strayed from the slicked back do behind his ears to fall into his face, but despite the color, he couldn't have even been close to forty yet. Flicking the match into a nearby dumpster, he took a long, deep drag from the Cig, the glow from its end dancing over the metallic wraparound from his temple to his eye. As he moved deeper into the alley, the pupil under the wraparound widened, drinking in the almost non-existent light as he strode toward his destination.  
A breath of wind stirred the old papers and waste of humans and animals on the alley floor, curling and separating the smoke that issued from Knight's lips. It was a frigid wind, a reminder of late November's callous attitude toward Chicago. Knight didn't even notice the cold air that tugged at his shoulder-length hair, drinking in the warm tobacco and nicotine from the cancer stick. Blowing the last of the smoke into a wispy ring, he flicked the butt of the Cig through it, not even slowing as he walked.  
Knight stepped out of the alley, into the contrasting brilliance of a working streetlight, illuminating his lean, feral form. Lighting up another Cig, he gazed out into the smog that blanketed the night sky. "Well Snake," he said to himself, letting the tobacco roll over his tongue, "you may have lived to find out about Project Babel, but I know your mind. And if they're not ready for you, then I can promise that I will be." 


	3. Chapter I: Hero Without a Cause

Chapter One: Hero Without a Cause  
  
"Heroes are remembered,  
But legends never die."  
  
Legends come into the world one of two ways: either they are born, or they are made. For those who are born, there is a feeling of greatness to them, an aura, a quality that makes them seem more than human, more than mortal. They tend to be natural leaders, paragons of what people look up to. For those who are made, well. . .  
A man had once become a legend, thrust into the spotlight, a soldier doing his job and then recognized as a hero. Media, medals, praise, all of it, a nation had turned him from a man into something else. It had been a burden, and a pain, a part of him that never really fit.  
But it was still a part of him. And three years ago, he had learned that it was all a sham, false, nothing more than a move in a game played in the shadows by men who answered only to themselves. A man defined by his actions had learned that they were engineered. A man with no definition, a soldier with no army, a hero without a cause.  
What the hell. It never had been Solid Snake's style to allow others to dictate any part or parcel of his life, not off the battlefield anyway. The wonderful thing about karma is that it always managed to bite just the right person in the ass at the sweetest possible time. And even if karma weren't up for the job, Snake felt sure he could step in.  
After all, he thought wryly, slowly twirling the small optical disk nestled comfortably in his right hand, he had one hell of a set of incisors.  
"Snake!" called a female voice from the pilot's seat of the Heuy. "Three minutes to drop. I advise you be ready by the time I am. We're probably going to only get one shot at this. Too bad you don't have time to shave."  
"At least I cut my hair," Snake said, running a hand through his brown head. She had her quirks, but Chris Jenner had a nagging habit of being right, and this time was no exception. Stealth cloaking or not, only a single pass could be marked up as an anomaly. After that, someone was going to check out the disturbance, probably with a heat-seeking missile or two.  
"And not a minute too soon. Sorry, but mullets don't suit you." "Thanks. Now tell me," he said, slipping the disk back into one of the many pockets in his sneaking suit, "if I'm not parachuting and we can't land, what exactly is this thing on my back? Is it part of the insertion method?"  
He could not, of course, be sure, but he thought he saw her smile reflected in the chopper's viewport. "Oh," Jenner said with a slight laugh in her voice, "you'll like this. The cord on your back isn't a parachute. It's a bungie."  
"A what?"  
"It's connected to winch that's run by the chopper's flight computer, and I jury-rigged it to control a winch. What it does is set the altitude, speed, and the taughtness at which the thing unravels."  
"Considering it's a bungie, it's gonna have to unravel pretty fast," Snake cut in. "You'd be surprised. This is more pressure-sensitive than anything on the market. Anyway, using a timer, it calculates when exactly to drop you, and gives you a signal when you need to cut the cord. You have a retractable stiletto in your wrist for that. The upshot of using a bungie is that it'll slow your fall so the landing will be softer than if you were using a parachute." She pulled off her headset, keeping the mic on and tossing her blonde hair. "The catch is, you won't be landing on the roof."  
Snake narrowed his eyes. "I know you're going to explain that."  
She turned, and this time he was sure that she smiled. "Look at your gloves."  
Snake made a close examination of the black semi-kev that wrapped itself around his hand, noting for the first time the irregular texture on the palm and fingers.  
"That's a new titanium alloy; three-quarter millimeter hooks curving down. Not much good on a date, but it'll cling to glass if you need to. You cut the rope, then grab the side of the building."  
"You have got to be kidding me." Snake's gravelly voice rarely, if ever, registered any sort of surprise. It was a testament to the woman that he let something so human show to her.  
Chris raised an eyebrow. "Not today Snake. Don't worry, the computer will do most of the work; you just have to cut the cord. Now, once on the wall, you need to check out the guards' positions. Your customary radar will come in handy, but these guys are good. Their helmet mics pick up any sort of noise and come with nightvision. If they see or hear anything funny, they'll sound the alarm, and it's all over. Assault rifles and grenades, each one of them."  
"What have I got in the way of equipment?"  
Chris's mouth curled up in a half-smile. "Ah, now that's the good news. I loaded you up, the works: a pair of nightvision/thermal hybrids - those were especially hard to get -, chaff and frag grenades, your favorite 9mm handgun-cum-silencer, and a partridge in a pear tree. Oh, I also managed to get a few Door-Makers."  
"C4? That'll fun to try to keep quiet." Snake chewed on the inside of his lip, rummaging through the cache of weapons and equipment to his right, pocketing and holstering them all. "Where did you get these wonderful toys anyway?"  
Chris shrugged. "Mercenaries mainly. Called in a few favors, pushed a few buttons - "  
"Campbell involved in any of this?" Snake cut her off.  
She frowned, then shook her head, the blonde locks shifting along the frame of her face. "No, I haven't heard from him for nearly as long as I haven't heard from you." she looked at him a little closer, her sapphire eyes searching him. "Why, has he contacted you?"  
"No. Sorry about the 'long time, no see' bit. There were a few things I had to find out for and about myself. Alone."  
"Right. Like the mystery man we're about to go 'recruit.' " Jenner puckered her lips in a mock pout. "Does that mean he's more important to you than I am?"  
Snake's lips stretched over his teeth in what passed for him as a smile. "That's right. To the planet, for the matter of that. He's the only guy in the known world, military, civilian, merc, or otherwise with the credentials to crack the code on the Project Babel disk."  
The blonde pilot sighed melodramatically. "Leave it to Augustine Eugabon to create the hardest code imaginable on a departure gift." She turned back to the pasti-cast viewport, sunglasses once again affixed upon her slender face. "Do you think he meant to give it to us all along and left the puzzle on purpose?"  
The ex-operative shrugged. "Wouldn't put much past him." He removed the clip from the SOCOM, examining the rounds. "Honestly, am I the only one in the world who uses combat loads any more?"  
"Combat what?"  
Snake placed an extra bullet in the gun's chamber, then shoved in the full clip. "A round in the pipe, plus a full clip. It basically gives you an extra shot. Saved my ass more than once in Outer Heaven." He holstered the gun, allowing a small sigh of relief at feeling the firearm's familiar weight and pressure against his ribs. Next, he turned to the goggles. Small, neat, probably efficient, and they fit him like a glove.  
"Those mercs must have owed some pretty heavy favors," Snake commented, switching the modes on the goggles.  
"Long story. So, you ready or what?"  
"When am I not?"  
"David," Chris said, all hints of joviality and wry humor gone, "you'd better take care of yourself. Odds are that you're expected, and you haven't gotten any younger since Outer Heaven."  
"Worried, are we?" But Snake's voice had gone serious as well. "I'll come back in on piece, and so will Emmerich. Just make sure you're there to pick us up."  
"Right." She turned back to the view shield, all business again. "The sewer lets you out four city blocks from the building, assuming you get through. Opens right into a handy little back alley. There's a fire escape to the roof. Any questions, you know my number."  
"I'll make sure to call then."  
"Very funny. Just promise to come back alive."  
Snake blew Chris a kiss. "Promise."  
"Good. Now, prep. Countdown from thirty seconds begins. . . now." 


End file.
